


Hard Feelings

by kitaaa



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Domestic, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Break Up, jungwoo is a sweet pure cinnamon roll that needs to be protected at all costs, lucas is the campus playboy with commitment issues, ratings may change if i can be bothered to write smut in future chapters lol, they’re just SO FUCKING WHIPPED for each other UWU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-04-16 22:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14174565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitaaa/pseuds/kitaaa
Summary: but i still remember everything -how we’d drift buying grocerieshow you’d dance for me(lucas dreams of jungwoo each night.)





	1. The Louvre

"Do you love me?"

Crescent-moon eyes peer up at Lucas from his lap, accompanied by an unfairly sweet smile. Lazy afternoon sunlight floods in through the apartment window and the way it paints little dappled stars on Jungwoo's face is doing funny things to him.

He frowns and draws out a long, dramatic  _hmmmmm,_  making a show out of considering the question when really the answer has been seared into his heart for quite a while. "Give me a minute. I'll have to think about it."

Jungwoo's brows knit in annoyance even though he knows Lucas is just teasing. "Don't be mean," he whines.

Lucas grins and leans down, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's lips in apology.  "Kidding," he says, "of course I love you."

Jungwoo pouts, making to get up and leave. "I don't believe you."

"You're such a _baby_ sometimes," Lucas laughs as Jungwoo tries (and fails) to wriggle out of Lucas' arms, which are wrapped around him with iron grip. He says the word in Cantonese, a special nickname he came up with back when they weren't even going out yet. Lucas cuddles him closer until the squirming stops, pecking his neck over and over. "What can I do to convince you?"

Now it's Jungwoo's turn to _hmmmmm,_ just to be a brat.

Lucas rolls his eyes and lifts Jungwoo's chin with a finger. Before he can protest, he kisses the other impatiently - _I love you, it's the truth_ \- again  _\- I love you so much_ \- and again - _I love you most -_ and again _,_ the words uttered a countless number of times in between parted mouths and sweeping tongue. It’s almost unbelievable how naturally Jungwoo’s hands find themselves in his hair, how his own encircle Jungwoo’s slender waist, how they adapt to each other’s rhythm and find their own.

They untangle for a moment, panting slightly. Lucas pulls back, examining the warm flush on Jungwoo's skin and the light lining his glossy red mouth, kissed thoroughly breathless.

Spotting Lucas' annoyingly pleased expression, Jungwoo buries his face in one hand and uses the other to thump him on the chest repeatedly.

“I hate you,” he complains, “you know exactly what you do to me.”

"Stop, stop," Lucas pleads, shaking with laughter whilst attempting to shield himself. For a second he catches Jungwoo’s wrists, crying in victory, but the blond only climbs on top of him as revenge and launches into a full-on assault.

Okay, this is starting to hurt.

"Jungwoo, stop," he says, but the blows keep on coming. A hand that definitely does not belong to Jungwoo literally  _slaps_  Lucas across the face - _what the fuck? -_ and someone else begins shaking him violently.

"Stop!" he shouts, panicked. Voices surround him all of a sudden and he experiences a brief sensation of falling. He startles when his back collides with something cold and concrete.

Lucas lets out a pained groan, nursing his scalp. He blinks once, twice, then finds himself on his own bedroom floor with a worried-looking Taeyong standing over him.

”Jesus, Cas, are you okay?” His eyes dart over to Jaehyun, sat on Lucas’ bed with his fists raised in front of him. “I told you not to hit him so hard, Jae!”

Jaehyun grimaces and scoots over to Lucas. “Sorry, bro, but in all fairness you did tell me that the next time I hear you having - _those_ dreams, I should wake you immediately.”

_Dreams._

Right. It was just another dream. 

There’s no other way it’d be so easy for him to say those three awful words.

”Yeah, but not straddle Cas on the sheets and start beating the living shit out of him,” Sicheng protests from the doorway, seemingly having witnessed the entire catastrophe.

“I’m okay, really,” he croaks, “Jaehyun’s right. I’d rather get punched in the face every night than have to keep going through - _that_.”

They all know what  _that_  means. He’d hid it well the first few times, but many countless nights of him mumbling, whispering and yelling the same name over and over in his sleep, it’s not like they could feign ignorance forever. Thankfully, like the good friends they are, they don’t bring it up. Some things are just too painful to speak about.

“Are you sure? You were being pretty loud,” Taeyong asks, then adds gently, “Your nightmares are getting worse, Cas.”

_Nightmares?_

Lucas doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh or cry. He wishes he could explain that for the past few months, his dreams have been bursting with only smiles, and laughter, and soft touches, and light - but maybe Taeyong’s right. They torment him nevertheless.

Jaehyun loops an arm around his shoulders. ”Look, I know you’re really against it, but it wouldn’t be as bad an idea as you think to just call Jung-“

”I said I’m fine,” Lucas grits out, with a fraction too much edge. _Asshole._ He has to remind himself that they’re just being good friends and looking out for him.

Taeyong and Jaehyun share a Look, and it makes his blood curdle. In the past, he‘d found it endearing how the pair, who had basically grown up together, seemed to be able to communicate almost telepathically. A raised eyebrow, a slight frown, a subtle nudge - they understood each other perfectly without even realising.

Seeing it now makes Lucas’ stomach sink in something that can only be described as longing. His friends are good friends, great friends, the best friends Lucas has ever had the luck to discover, but it’s early in the morning, his entire body aches, and he‘s wishing for lazy afternoon sunlight rather than the harsh fluorescent lightbulbs of his bedroom more than he cares to admit.

The way they’re all surrounding him and _staring_ with such poorly-disguised pity makes him feel like the gangly, insecure boy with ugly glasses from 5th grade all over again, the one no one ever really bullied but ever really befriended either.

He can’t bear it. So he says something unkind. 

“If you’re done interrogating me like some emotionally abused child, I’d really like to get ready for class,” he snaps.

He regrets the words almost as soon as they come out, but the room descends into an uncomfortable silence.

”I’m sorr-“ he starts, but Sicheng only appears even more sympathetic as he reassures, “It’s okay, Cas. We’re overstepping.”

The three of them head for the door before he can attempt to apologise again. “Come out when you’re ready, I made pancakes,” Taeyong smiles reassuringly over his shoulder, and Lucas hates them a little bit for being so _good_.

He watches the door knob turn, click, then stop, and decides to stay lying on the freezing linoleum floor anyway.

A dream.

It was just a dream.

He lays there for several minutes, unable to determine whether he’s glad or disappointed. Every so often, memories of crescent-shaped eyes and familiar touches flash through his mind, then flash out just as quickly. How this makes him feel is diffcult to determine, too.

Outside, the sun begins to unfurl its rays, fading from bruised pink to pale blue. The sound of clanging cutlery and shuffling feet reaches his ears, and Lucas sighs, finally hauling himself up.

As he stalks into the kitchen, he focuses on preparing another sincere apology to his friends. At the sink, he focuses on filling a glass of water for his burning throat. Afterwards, he focuses on showering, getting dressed, eating breakfast and hurriedly copying the homework he forgot the professor set last week, focuses on anything but the lingering taste of an impossibly soft mouth on his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i watched the nct u boss mv 1000 times in a row and then 1000 different luwoo couple videos and then i died of fear and awe and confusion and then i resurrected from my unworthy grave to come back and write this


	2. Green Light

Lucas should’ve known this was going to be a disaster from the start.

For one, he was heading to a ’low-key’ gathering organised by Johnny, which should’ve been the first warning sign, since Johnny couldn’t be low-key even if his life depended on it. It was the reason why they were such good friends.

For another, everyone would be expecting him and he was running very late. Big, flashy entrances were kind of his thing, but not when he wasn’t prepared to play the part (he’d stayed up all night playing Fortnite with Jaehyun and had barely remembered to leave the house with his pants on).

Lastly, said gathering was being hosted at a café with a strict no alcohol policy. Sure, coffee was a vital fuel that gave him the will to live each morning, but Lucas wasn’t sure he could sit through hours of random strangers coming up to him and do a convincing job of pretending to remember their name whilst sober.

Two bus rides, one hectic subway journey and a full fifteen minute sprint into the city centre later, Lucas bursts through the door of Café Neo to a group of around 50 students ( _low-key, my ass_ ) eagerly awaiting the famed campus quarterback’s arrival.

So much for his grand entrance. He looks like shit: he‘s wearing the same simple white tee he’d fallen in asleep in, has thrown on the first pair of skinny jeans he could find - which he only just now realises are desperately fraying - and a rumpled leather jacket. His hair is a mess, he’s forgotten to put his contacts in so he’s forced to to wear thick-rimmed circle glasses instead, and he’s missing an earring.

Johnny rushes up to him and claps an arm around his shoulder. The atmosphere in the café is friendly; the air is buzzing with conversation and banter.  “Hey, man, looking good,” he grins, and Lucas isn’t sure whether he means it or is joking. When it comes to Johnny, Lucas can’t tell half the time, to be honest.

”We saved you coffee, come sit with me,” a girl with sleek purple hair calls out, smiling, and Lucas recognises her as the dance major that most of his guy friends have called hot at one point or another. Shit, what was her name again?

Lee Sooyoung. Of course. Lucas returns the smile and walks over. ”Sure, scoot over or there won’t be enough room for me to fit,” he orders, poking her in the stomach, “are you sure you haven’t gained weight recently?”

Johnny snorts beside her. On his right, Seulgi groans and smacks him on the arm. “You’re such a huge dick, you know that?”

”Yeah, that’s because I have one, duh,” he smirks, and Sooyoung’s eyes could not roll further back into her head if she tried. “Yeah, yeah, idiot. Way to piss everyone off not even five minutes after arrival.”

“You’re the one that told me to _sit with you_ ,” he mocks, and nudges her shoulder with his. Somewhere in his subconscious he notes the rosy blush on her face with satisfaction. _Easy._

“So, how many people do you know here?” Johnny asks, and Seulgi mutters, “Probably all of them, and he’s probably fucked half of them, too,” which earns her an aggressive hair ruffle from Lucas.

He scans the room rapidly. “Actually, my darling  _Seulgi_ , before you slander my squeaky-clean image,” he chides, still searching the wide space for familiar faces, “I don’t actually think I recognise many people here at a-“

Oh.

_Oh._

The world stops.

Time freezes, voices get muted, the furniture goes out of focus.

Lucas feels the contents of his stomach starting to churn into some violent, queasy storm. The following scene unfolds before him in agonising slow motion, as though watching himself through a rain-blurred window: his own head lifting in realisation, the room flickering beneath his lids as he blinks, disbelieving, only to find a pair of crescent-moon eyes he'd recognise anywhere making crystal-clear contact with his. 

Jungwoo. It's Jungwoo.

He lets out a shaky exhale. God, it’s been so long since he’s seen him that he nearly forgot how much prettier Jungwoo is in real life. Has he really been sat there, right in front of Lucas, less than an arm's length away, without him even noticing? Just how sleep deprived was he, what the fuck?

Dust motes dance around him from the open, unrelenting light of the huge café windows, lining his hair silver, the stray eyelash on his cheek, too, and - he just looks so, _so_  pretty. Lucas has to clench his fist under the table to stop himself from doing something stupid.

“Oh, hey. It’s you.” Jungwoo offers a bland smile and does a waving thing with three fingers.

He’s changed. He’s stayed exactly the same. Everything stings.

 _It’s you._ Lucas blanches at how casually he says this, as though simply greeting an acquaintance he’d momentarily forgotten existed, what the _fuck?_ He sips his water nonchalantly, even as Lucas stays silent. He can only guess at how stupid he probably looks right now, with his eyes half popping out of his skull and his mouth hanging open, but he just can't stop staring.  

Seeing Jungwoo here, now, in the flesh, is creating the exact opposite effect from before.

It makes him feel like a man who has been wandering the desert for centuries and only just discovered a sparkling oasis, liberated of his thirst.

It makes him feel like Jungwoo was the desert in the first place.

For god's sake, he should've actually _looked_ at the invite list instead of signing it blindly just to appease his friends. It's far too late to regret that now, he thinks, as he watches the boy who once called him _the centre of my universe_ hardly react to his presence.

Jungwoo carries on playing with his water bottle lid, tongue darting ever so slightly between his lips, and he can’t help tuning into every minute detail on his face, transfixed.

 _Why do you drink nothing but water,_ Lucas had once asked, _it’s literally just flavourless juice._

 _Unless you’ve forgotten, 70% of us is made up of this so-called flavourless juice,_ Jungwoo had once replied, amused.

 _Well, I can tell you right now that_ at least _70% of me purely consists of coffee,_ Lucas had argued childishly.

Jungwoo had pulled a face. _Yuck. Bitter._  He probably hadn’t meant to look so heart-achingly adorable when he’d said that with a tiny shiver, but he really, really had. Lucas had wanted to call him a baby and shower his cheeks with kisses, but he’d already embarrassed him fifty times that day and he knew better than anyone how frustrating it was to deal with a sulking Jungwoo.

He’d decided to settle on some harmless - if also shameless - flirting instead. _Wanna know what the other 30% of me is made up of?_

A dramatic sigh. Then a punishing pinch to the ribs, and a delighted squeak. _If you must._

 _Obviously, the rest of me is filled with thoughts_ _of you._

Unhappy. 

_Only 30%?_

_But_ baby,  _that 30% is the most important part. It counts for my whole heart, and brain, and soul._

Jungwoo had fake-gagged into his hand, but he’d been unable to hold back his growing smile.  _Yukhei, you’re so cheesy it’s gross._

 _Only for you, baby,_ he’d cooed, and then what they‘d done next hadn’t really left much room for talking.

”Lucas?”

Real-life Jungwoo's voice snaps him back to the present, and Lucas has to take a second to recognise who’s speaking because he’s still used to Jungwoo calling him by his Cantonese name.

“Yeah, sorry.” Lucas coughs, and the words come out stiff and heavy. Two stones dropped into a pool. “Hey,” he adds awkwardly. 

Jungwoo carries on smiling. “Thank god, I thought you’d forgotten who I was.”

His chest squeezes. God, did Jungwoo really think he’d meant so little to him that he wouldn’t even remember him? After everything that had happened to them? Why did Jungwoo just state that sentence like an irrefutable fact?

And why did he sound so fucking _okay_ with that?

Shocked, and around twice as loud as he needs to, he exclaims, “Of course I wouldn’t, are you crazy?” 

The table goes quiet. Jungwoo flinches. On instinct, Lucas reaches for him, then remembers he’s not allowed to do that anymore, and retreats back into his seat. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so serious, I just meant -“

”I know,” Jungwoo interrupts, and some emotion other than _neutral_ flares in his face for a fraction of second. Then he returns back to normal, smiling again. Pleasant and relaxed. ”What are you doing here?”

”Uh.” Lucas looks down at his mug, then at his feet, at his mug, takes a huge gulp of coffee, and looks back up at Jungwoo, who is _still fucking smiling_. His leg starts to jiggle, a tick that starts up whenever he gets nervous, usually before important games. A small, selfish part of him wonders if Jungwoo still remembers kissing him behind the stands each time, soft and languid, until all his fears washed away. “Drinking coffee.”

Seulgi snorts and elbows him. “Our Cas, always so eloquent with his words.” A faint smile works its way on his face when he hears Johnny and Sooyoung giggle. 

A heartbeat passes, then - “Oh. Yeah, of course, that was a silly question,” Jungwoo says, and that’s the end of that. He turns to speak to his group of friends, and doesn’t so much as glance in his direction for the next one hundred and twenty-seven minutes, despite Lucas‘ gaze being fixed solely at the back of Jungwoo’s head for this entire time. 

Every time Lucas does attempt to open his mouth and say something else, Kim Dongyoung sends him a fierce glare with an unspoken, yet very evident, _fuck off_ attached to it. He almost can't comprehend that this is the same guy who would grin at him and shout obscenely sexual encouragements every time he came to pick Jungwoo up for a date. The same guy who queued for an hour to buy him _the best red velvet cupcakes in town_  for his birthday despite having barely exchanged two sentences because _hey, any friend of Jungwoo's is a friend of mine_ -

Lucas tries not to imagine those stones re-emerging from the pool. Crushing them with their endless weight. 

It's the least he deserves.

Finally, he has no choice but to admit defeat. He rejoins his side of the table and tries to act interested in the lively conversation even though it seems to drag on at a snail’s pace.

He surprises himself at how easily he switches on autopilot, back to the usual Lucas, the fuckboy jock with overflowing testosterone and irresistable charm: he smiles with all his teeth, laughs like a hyena, nods along to his friends' ridiculous jokes and stories and adds in a few of his own which have people howling on the floor, clutching their stomachs. He notes down a dozen new contacts to his phone, promises to hit them up some time even though he knows he never will, updates his Snapchat story with the obligatory _look-at-us-we’re-having-more-fun-than-you-are_  selfie, poses for a few silly group photos, then races out the door before his heart, which has been slowly expanding to the size of a house for the past three hours, threatens to leap out of his throat and explode.

When he returns to the apartment that evening, he barely manages to make it into the living room before he collapses onto the couch and ugly-screams into one of the cushions.

Taeyong, who has just observed this entire mental breakdown happen, says nothing and only joins Lucas, patting his hair calmly until he stops screeching and thrashing like a possessed corpse. “What’s up?” he questions, and Lucas only lets out a despairing grunt in response.

_Eloquent indeed._

_  
_

-

 

That night, Lucas dreams of Jungwoo once again.

It’s twilight. They’re in bed, curved into each other, and everything is hazy and quiet. The air is cotton candy.

”Say my name, baby,” Lucas croons, running his hands up and down the length of Jungwoo’s smooth back.

” _Yukhei_ ,” Jungwoo calls, and Lucas has never heard his name sound like a song before.

”Say it again,” he breathes, reciting sonnets into the notches of his spine, worshipping every tendon in place.

Jungwoo replies, “ _Yukhei, Yukhei, Yukhei,_ ” and in his mouth the word sounds like a poem, a melody, an orchestra of light, like the holiest of prayers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i found a way to hack the system and write fluffy luwoo as well as angsty luwoo at the same time i suppose this is what one would call a dong sicheng situation ;))
> 
> (side note: idk if i want to write the next chapter in Jungwoo’s perspective and if that would increase/decrease the angst??)


	3. Sober

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: A significant portion of this chapter is filled with gross, obnoxious frat boy humour.  
> Look away if you're as disgusted as I am by textbook local culture.
> 
> You have been warned!

The next time Lucas sees Jungwoo, it begins exactly how they ended: with unspoken words, way too much liquor, a sea of people and a tidal wave of something far more suffocating washing over them.

It’s been a few weeks since the awkward, abrupt meeting at Café Neo left him reeling, and all he’s been doing is drowning his thoughts in sports and school and the embrace of any half-pretty girl willing to have him (read: all of them).

Now he's somehow ended up at the after-party of the university's Fall Ball, an extravagant annual event consisting of expensive attire, fancy glasses of watered-down champagne and awkward formal dancing. Lucas still can't fathom how he managed to endure all two and half hours of it.

Whilst suffocating in a black tie and tight-collared tuxedo.

With Sooyoung clinging to his side, giving him a headache with her constant demands to be held - even if she _did_ look unbelievable in that lace-up satin gown. 

Honestly, he doesn't know why they even bother with the effort when everyone always has a far better time getting wasted at some sweaty, dirt-cheap frat house basement ( _his_ sweaty, dirt-cheap frat house basement) immediately after. However, he does have to admit Taeyong has done a good job at sprucing the place up - a meadow of shiny black balloons and streamers float up above his head, whilst winding strings of ivy-shaped fairy lights wrap around door ways, table legs, and spiralling stairs. In the centre of their massive living room, a projector beams a spinning gold forest scene, the leaves falling over and over on the walls. Just the perfect amount of festive autumn aesthetic.

The party planner himself makes his way over to Lucas moments later from the kitchen counter where Jaehyun is acting as a make-shift bartender, clumsily mixing drinks with phenomenally blazed red eyes.

"You doing okay, Cas?" Taeyong greets, handing him a cup of who-knows-what. "You look lost in your own home."

"Yeah, of course," he replies, taking a sip of the satanic concoction that only Jaehyun could be responsible for. He pulls a face at the taste. "Just admiring your handiwork." He gestures to the scene before him, the time of night when a giddy buzz has started to creep in the air, but not late enough that everything just turns into a trashy, horny adolescent mess.

Taeyong shrugs his shoulders, modest as ever, though the corners of his lips curve up in a satisfied smile. "Gotta break the stereotype that frat boys are tasteless animals with a fragile sense of masculinity and only just enough brain cells to think about boobs, beer or sports."

Lucas opens his mouth in shock, utterly offended. "Wow, okay, that seemed personal. I'll have you know sometimes I think about dick too. And sucking said dick. Frequently."

He grins, signature and sleazy. "I don't discriminate, bro."

Taeyong's face screws up in a grimace. "I'm all for prevention of bisexual erasure, hashtag love is love 2k18, everyone is welcome under my roof, blah, blah, but I told you if you ever called me bro again I'd have to think about kicking you out of the house."

Sicheng slinks up behind the two of them, swaying on his feet, followed by Mark and Kun. "I heard Cas may finally be getting booted out, and so I came running," he slurs, dodging Lucas' half-assed attempt at pulling him into a headlock.

"Aw, come on guys," Lucas whines, pleading as hard as possible with wide puppy eyes as they push him away playfully. "I only just managed to evade Sooyoung and the other girls."

"Boohoo, poor baby, imagine being overwhelmed by the tonnes of female attention being showered upon you at every turn," Mark deadpans.

"Hey, not my fault you have the face of a twelve year-old boy," Lucas teases, while Sicheng sighs and adds, "It's times like these I wish you weren't such a textbook hetero. You'd make such a cute bottom."

Lucas snorts. He loves wasted Sicheng; as savage as ever, but with enough energy to actually bother unleashing it.

"Stop abusing the fact that I'm a virgin to embarrass me about this stuff," Mark cries, "How come you guys never bully Taeyong about it? I've never even seen him touch another human being for longer than a minute - well, apart from Jaehyun, but that's expected - let alone have an actual crush!"

At the mention of Jaehyun, Taeyong tenses. Just the tiniest, most microscopic change, hardly noticeable to anyone that hadn't lived with the guy for the past year and a half like Lucas has.

Ah. Unfinished business.

"Because Taeyong doesn't care about getting laid," Lucas deflects, coming to the rescue, "Whereas you would probably pay half your college tuition to see a real-life nipple."

"He'd probably bust a nut on the spot if he saw both, too," Sicheng drawls, snickering.

Mark doesn't seem to help himself when he blushes bright red amidst their loud cackles. "Even if I weren't a virgin, I'd still rather swallow the disgusting breakfast Kun insists on feeding us every morning -"

"Hey! You said it was verging on the brink of edible today!" 

"-than listen to your dirty s-sex jokes," Mark hisses, which only makes the pair howl harder.

"Did you hear that?" Lucas says to Sicheng between gasps, clutching his stomach and trembling. "He stuttered when he s-said s-s-SEX!"

Sicheng topples over onto an amused Taeyong, babbling " _He stuttered! He stuttered!_ " over and over, smacking himself on the leg with tears running down his cheeks.

"I hate you both," Mark yells, still very scarlet, though he makes no motion to leave. Jaehyun rushes over (or well, walks as fast as an insanely stoned human being is capable of doing) with a wide smile, and for a single, glorious second Mark's face lights up with the hope of a saviour...only to be betrayed with even more bullying.

They're making a scene. He can sense dozens of gazes focused on the five of them, ranging from amusement to admiration to envy.

Normally, noticing this attention would only inspire him to cause more noise, more movement, more chaos, until it was impossible to ignore their corner. Normally, it would send an electric thrill through his system, to know he's someone important, someone who belongs in the spotlight - but for once, he doesn't even _care_.

For the first time in an incredibly long while, Lucas begins to feel okay again. Tonight, he decides, all that matters is drinking his depressive thoughts away and bonding with his boys.

This bold new resolve, of course, lasts approximately one minute and twenty-seven seconds before collapsing in on itself completely. 

The instant Lucas' darting eyes land on a certain blond-haired figure watching him intently. Even in the monochrome shadows of the basement, even through the shimmering throng of bodies, Lucas could never miss him.

What is he doing here? He hates parties. 

Surprise flickers on Jungwoo's face at having been caught lurking. Lucas walks forward before his mind even registers what his legs have done, but Jungwoo is already turning away, lost to the darkness. Suddenly acutely sober, Lucas finds himself aching to escape. 

"Just gonna get some fresh air for a bit, 's too stuffy in here," he mumbles lamely, hardly hearing his friends' disappointed protests as he slips into the crowd. There's no way he's going to let Jungwoo slip through his fingers this time. He weaves his way around the room, asking (more like interrogating, Sicheng exclaims the following day) anyone he can if they know where the other went. 

Growing steadily more frustrated at the shit responses being given back, ranging from drunk, garbled nonsense, to sticky sexual propositions, to stuttering awe, Lucas nearly gives up altogether until he feels a sharp tap on his shoulder. 

"He's up on the roof," Doyoung says coolly, as though he wasn't just reciting multiple death curses in Lucas' name under his breath days ago.

"Um, don't you hate me?" Lucas blurts.

"Yeah." Doyoung shoots him a knowing smirk and doesn't elaborate. He wants to press further, anything to squeeze out rare and valuable information about Jungwoo, but he also knows he should be chasing Jungwoo down before he disappears - after seeing Lucas, he might have fled already.

Fine. Stay smug and mysterious. Sighing in defeat, Lucas swerves round him and races through the door. By the time it shuts with an echoing slam, he's already halfway up the stairs, his long legs hurdling three steps at a time. When he finally emerges into the chilly night air, he nearly falls flat on the concrete at the sight awaiting him.

Jungwoo's leaning against the iron railing, gazing out at the city landscape. Even with his back to Lucas, the image of what his face must look like right now unfurls in perfect resolution underneath Lucas' eyelids:  mesmerised and at peace, eyes twinkling brighter than any glass tower, lips curled in a secret smile, as if to say,

_Right now, the world belongs to us only._

_Just you,_   _and me,_ _and the moon._

_Isn't that lovely?_

_Aren't I lovely?_

Come on, these reactions are getting a little deja-vu, his brain whines, but Lucas can't formulate coherent thought right now, not with Jungwoo so close. He makes no attempt to disturb the peace; his presence alone will ruin the moment. So, for a long, long while, Lucas stands there silently, watching Jungwoo watch the stars.

"Hey there, stranger," Lucas finally calls out, and Jungwoo snaps around, quick as lightning. He gulps, trying to calm the roaring in his ears. "Mind if I join you?"

After a stiff pause, Jungwoo surprises Lucas with a nod. "Why not?" he reasons, nonchalant as ever.

Scared he'll change his mind, Lucas makes the slowest journey in the universe up to the railing. He's sure to leave at least a few metres between them.

"How have you been?"

"Good."

"That's good. Me too. The team won our last game of the season a few days ago, so we're through to regional finals."

"Oh, congrats."

"By the way, that bet you made with Mark on whether or not he could survive eating only Kun's cooking for a week straight? He failed by the fourth day, we caught him on a McDonald's run at 3 in the morning, so. Feel free to collect your fifty dollars from him whenever. And gloat while you're at it."

"Ha, yeah."

"Well, you've probably forgotten by now. But has anything interesting happened in your life lately?"

"Not really."

Those few metres between them is starting to feel like a gaping abyss, an unclimbable wall. All these opaque, unspoken words are piling up brick by brick. Has it always been this hard to reach Jungwoo?

"Come on, don't be modest. You never ran out of interesting stories to tell m- to tell everyone."

Jungwoo shrugs. "Not everyone can be the most popular guy on campus. Or the basketball team captain who gets invited to a different party each week." It sounds like a compliment, but he phrases it like an insult.

"Nah, you're exaggerating. Mainly I just get verbally abused by my team mates and the coach. And, like, everyone else I know," Lucas jokes nervously.

"Anyway, less about me. Is your dog better now? I miss that little thing." _And you._

"We had to put Snoopy down, but my brother got a puppy for Christmas, so it's fine."

The atmosphere around them is weird and knotted. This is going all wrong.

"Shit, sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Um, what about you at college? Have you finished that billion-word thesis you were stressing out over yet?"

"That was months ago." _So were we._

He's trying, he really is. He knows he's rambling, but Jungwoo is being difficult, shooting down any attempt at conversation before it can develop. I made him like this, Lucas realises. The wall looms before him, crowns itself with barbed wire.

"Speaking of parties - I thought you hated them. Hot chocolate and movies on a rainy day, wasn't that more your scene?"

"People change, Lucas." _And you haven't._

He flushes, suddenly feeling like a massive idiot. What was he thinking, rushing up here with no real reason, digging up old stories that aren't even relevant anymore? Lucas can be oblivious at the best of times, but he's not completely stupid. He can recognise the signs - Jungwoo wrapping his arms around himself, putting up a physical barrier, his monosyllabic relies, his prickly tone. He's moved on, or at least he wants to, and Lucas - Lucas is the only one floundering in the past. Pathetic.

"I don't know why I'm up here, actually. I saw you, and just...acted on impulse. Wrong move. Obviously. You'd probably prefer to be alone right now, so I'm just gonna go somewhere that's not - here."

"Yeah," Jungwoo agrees softly. The wall grows ever higher.

"Well, good night," Lucas says, stinging. "It was nice seeing you, uh -" He doesn't know what to do, leaning in awkwardly for a hug before realising the last thing Jungwoo probably wants is to be touched by him, then promptly trips over his own feet while trying to pull away because his cursed, gangly piece-of-shit body never listens to him. He slams into Jungwoo with a thud, and immediately wants the ground to split in half and devour him.

"Did you never learn the meaning of personal space, or..." Jungwoo mutters, sounding only mildly ruffled at the contact.

He jerks back, already forming apologies, when his eye catches a flash of rapid movement. Jungwoo's pulse -  fluttering, rabbit-fast, at the base of his throat. Lucas' brows raise sky-high, a tiny golden bud of glee blossoming inside of him. He grins, he's too pleased, he can't help himself, which makes Jungwoo notice that he's noticed, and just like that, the wall crumples on its knees.

A loud groan. "Shut up."

"I haven't said anything." With or without the liquor, this is giddiest he's felt all night.

"You've said your goodbyes, you can leave now."

"Hm, I think I'm going to hang around for a bit longer."

"Leave, please."

"No."

"You're annoying me."

"And apparently making you nervous, too."

"Shut _up_. Shutupshutupshutup."

"Ouch, why act so cold?"

"Because I _am_ cold. Especially towards you."

"Do you want me to warm you up?"

"Do you want me to slap you?"

"I mean, I'll try anything once."

"That's not what I - You're so _annoying_."

"Aw, are you flustered?" Lucas coos, liquid courage bubbling in his system, getting more potent by the second. He's getting closer, inch by inch, and by some beautiful, wonderful miracle, Jungwoo is letting him.

"Go away."

"No."

" _Ugh_." He's pouting.

"You're cute when you're mad."

"Well, I'm about to become absolutely adorable if you don't leave me alone."

"You always are, anyway."

They're practically on top of each other at this point: he smells that familiar fresh-laundry, lavender-and-vanilla scent, takes delight in Jungwoo squirming at his nearness.

"So, why are you up here on this fine October night?"

"Why are _you_? Isn't there some girl in a mini skirt you should be groping on a couch by now?" Maybe he's just hearing things, but Jungwoo sounds almost...jealous. Lucas attempts to stop his grin from widening, and fails.

"No offence to my friends, but I think a romantic rooftop rendezvous is far more appealing than a booze fest in a dingy basement."

Jungwoo places his hands on his hips, fixing him with a pointed glare. "This is _far_ from romantic."

"Oh, so you have passionate midnight conversations under the stars with just anybody, is that it? What a terrible flirt."

The corners of Jungwoo's lips twitch, disobeying their owner, and Lucas knows he's close. If he presses just a fraction further, those lips will break out in a dazzling smile, letting loose the kind of laugh he could listen to for hours on repeat.

Instead, he says the dumbest, most tactless thing his two deformed brain cells can come up with. "I want to kiss you."

A hitched breath. "Wh-what?"

"I do. It's all I think about - wait no, it's not.

I think about touching you, in any way, all the time. Not even sexually, I just think about the way you'd shove your hands up my shirt in winter and warm them up on my stomach, or the way you'd cling to me in bed every morning no matter how hard I protested I had to go to class, or - or the way your hair tickles against my cheek when I hug you and squeeze as hard as I can.

I still think about buying your favourite brand of ramen whenever I go grocery shopping, purely out of habit, and I think about the jokes I could've made whenever I see something I know you would've found funny, and sometimes, I sit in my room on a Wednesday afternoon and wonder what you're doing in the exact same moment, because it's the closest I can get to actually being there with you, and -"

Jungwoo's not responding. He looks genuinely stunned, close to fainting. His expression would be almost comical in any other situation but right now it's just making Lucas' nerves short-circuit. He can't let his new-born bravery sputter out just yet.

"- and I know you must've come to the conclusion that I just used you for the sex, or the validation, or whatever - can't blame you, because I did some pretty shitty things - but you have to know that you were - that you _are_ more to me than that. I never thought I'd have the balls to admit all this, but I can't hold it in anymore. I'm so tired of pretending I'm doing fine without you. Because I'm not."

Air.

Just whistling wind, smudged traffic below, then a shuddering exhale. 

"You can't do this."

"Woo-"

" _I_ can't do this, not again." His voice wobbles, and he struggles to keep tears from spilling. "You're not being _fair_.  You haven't even apologised for what you did, even now, and you're only talking about _your_ suffering, what _you've_ lost, what I can do for _you_ , you never stop to consider how _I'm_ feeling, how every encounter we have leaves _me_ spiralling for days, just like how after this one I'm probably going to go home and cry, and you know what?

It sucks that I would forgive you for all of it anyway if I let myself. It sucks that I can't hate you, no matter how hard I try, it scares me how easily I forget every grudge I'm supposed to hold as soon as I'm anywhere near you, it scares me how much power you have over my emotions. 

It's scary, and it fucking _sucks_."

Lucas is pleading now, he's discarded his ego, he's so desperate. "I'm sorry. Listen, you don't have to trust me in the slightest, you have every right, but at least believe that I miss you. _God_ , this is the first time I've said it out loud, and it's the first truthful thing that's come out of my mouth in months. I miss you. I fucking miss you. And I'm sorry. Tell me what to do to prove I can be better. Just tell me, anything to win you back. I just want you back."

Jungwoo's face looks pained. He's fighting against himself. He's in conflict. Lucas is praying and praying Jungwoo picks him.

"Yuk-"

"Jungwoo?"

They both jump. Jungwoo's gaze slips to where the voice is coming from, and Lucas' own reluctantly follows.

The guy who interrupted them raises his hand in greeting. He has gleaming blue-black hair and a face fit for a snake charmer. He's handsome in a piercing way, like the lead hero of an action manga waltzed right out of the pages. Lucas has seen him around before, usually around the sports block where he plays basketball - the soccer team's ace, Nakamoto Yuta. He's a chill guy, someone Lucas could click with straight away given the chance, but right now the sight of him only causes a bolt of frustration to flare up. Of course they would be cut off at the most crucial moment.

"What are you doing up here? You're gonna freeze to death, come back down," he calls, confused. His eyes finally land on Lucas, thankfully oblivious. "Yo, Lucas, right? You're here too? Well, I guess the view _is_  nice."

Jungwoo opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He looks at Lucas.

 _Stay with me,_ he says without speaking.

The two of them stay like that for what seems like an age, staring at each other wordlessly. Unable to pull back, but struggling to resist the magnetic force drawing them together, always straining to connect, always directing their paths to cross. Lucas wants to laugh at how stupid he sounds. It was Jungwoo that had always been the superstitious one, going on and on about tarot cards and zodiac signs and and fates woven in the constellations.

The cord strains tighter, tighter, tighter; snaps. Jungwoo's eyes flit to where Yuta waits. "Yeah, I'm coming now, babe."

Gold bleeds into red. The flower goes up in flames. He's on fire, it burns, all he knows in this moment is burning, a searing hot pain spreading its claws across his skin as Jungwoo brushes past him, trembling slightly, to curl up by Yuta's side, straightening when an arm encircles his waist. The guy whispers in Jungwoo's ear, and he offers a crooked smile.

Jungwoo glances back over his shoulder and says something to Lucas, but he doesn't know what. The two disappear around the corner, holding hands, and Lucas can't do shit to stop it. Lucas can only observe, can only stand there and burn himself down to the very last cinder. 

They'd had an argument about it, once, when Jungwoo got upset over Lucas' constant teasing about his eery faith in the spiritual. Only now does he think he understands - the feeling of worshipping a hopeless cause, knowing it's hopeless and growing all the more devoted for knowing it.

It's maddening, how he can't bring himself to believe in anything else.

It's addicting, how he indulges in the idea of belonging to a different realm, to a different reality, a timeline where he doesn't fuck everything up then have to watch the only human being he'll ever love belong to a different person.

 

-

 

Tonight, they're balanced on top of a pyramid, the tip of a needle, the precipice of a rotating blade.

"Come with me," Jungwoo begs, and Lucas shakes his head.

"Stay here," he says instead.

"We can't hide ourselves forever."

"What are you so scared of? What is there to lose?"

Lucas doesn't answer. He tugs Jungwoo into a crushing hug, and for a split second, everything is fine. Jungwoo is made of silk and petals, he's soft and comforting, his touch feels like home, he'll never abandon him, it's okay.

But Jungwoo is also made of glass, of skyscrapers, of blinding city starlight. An ambulance siren shatters the reverie, and Jungwoo is glowing now, expanding like a supernova. Suddenly Jungwoo is too small for his fingers to grasp, too large for his arms to contain, and Jungwoo is escaping, Jungwoo is leaping off the building, Jungwoo is going, going, gone -

Lucas sprints to the ledge, steeling himself to jump.

It's too late.

He's sprouted wings - great, sweeping things, dyed the colour of the sun. Jungwoo's soaring off without him, straight down into the street lamps, a reckless angel. Lucas shouts wildly, but he's already deafened by free fall. Someone is waiting at the bottom, shrouded in shadow, ready to catch Jungwoo, and Lucas can't make out their face, only knows that it's not him. 

_What are you so scared of?_

_Losing myself._

_Losing you._

The electricity fizzles out.

The world fades to black.

And Lucas is left stranded on the edge of a cliff, clutching at feathers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I really struggled to flesh out this chapter the way I wanted, maybe because it's such a turning point and I wanted to get both Lucas and Jungwoo's feelings just right. It would take me hours at a time to write out a few lines of dialogue, I don't know why it was so difficult! Hopefully the quality was worth the wait? (Probably not lol)
> 
> On another note, the usual dream sequence at the end is...really shit. Sorry if you guys looked forward to it, usually I can spin a bit of poetry with these little fantasies, but I was fresh out of ideas for this one. I didn't know how to conclude the chapter on a more powerful note than the intense real-life events that had already happened. Honestly, I'm not sure it makes any sense, even though I tried to be all fake-deep and metaphorical.
> 
> I'd really appreciate your thoughts on this story because I want to continually better my writing - it was re-reading all the lovely comments that encouraged me to pick up this story again after 6 months! Also, look out for more Yuta - he's a very intriguing character, and I can't wait to explore him further. As always, criticism and compliments are equally welcome. :) <3


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